


The woman with the Blue Eye

by THE_nerd13



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Action/Adventure, Blood and Violence, Eventual Romance, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-19
Updated: 2020-01-25
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:41:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22313422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/THE_nerd13/pseuds/THE_nerd13
Summary: A narrative of how our Witcher, Geralt of Rivia, and our lovable bard, Jaskier, cross paths with a mysterious character who helps them in the woods; and how the duo slowly unravels her darkest secrets. Secrets that are darker than a moonless night. Would friendship, and possibly romance, bud between our heroes? Or would death and loss tear them apart?
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Reader, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Reader
Comments: 1
Kudos: 49





	1. When we met her...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geralt comes to heavily injured after killing a kikimora. And yet the face that greets him is cold and unfamiliar. Who could this person be and will they be a part of a new and catchy ballad?

Geralt’s P.O.V

I woke up with my mind dizzy and hazed. My body stung all over and felt heavy. I tried to raise my hand to my face, but at the slightest of movements, a sharp pain shot through me. I groaned, at least I think it was me, as the unbearable sensation washed over me like a crashing wave on the shore.

“You are healing. You mustn’t force yourself. Rest.” Said a woman’s voice, gentle yet strong. 

I could feel her faint presence beside me. It was cool and calm; like a fresh breeze on a fine summer day. It was...pleasant. But then, there was a loud shuffling and another voice spoke. This one was of a man’s, and annoying. 

“Is he awake? Is he alright? He won’t die will he?” 

Jaskier...

“If you don’t shut up and stop fidgeting, the only dead body found here will be yours!” Replied the woman, slightly shouting with her tone laced with annoyance and frustration. At the threat, the loud shuffling in the background came to an instant halt. 

With every ounce of my strength, despite the painful strain, I forcibly opened my eyes and saw the dark sky and an unfamiliar face peering down from above me. It was a hooded fair woman, with (h/c) hair that faded into snow-white at the ends. Her right eye was closed shut as a scar reaching from her brow to her cheek ran over it. But the most striking feature this woman had would be the icy blue iris that stared down at me. It was stoic and calculating and cruel. 

“Good evening, Witcher.” The woman said. 

Her voice was as gentle and strong as before, yet, her expression was that of stone. No emotion shone through. A loud, high pitched squeal, sounded to the right of me, followed by a quick succession of thumping sounds. Jaskier’s face then came into view. He was laughing so hard that his smile reached his ears. 

“Look at you! Still up and running! I knew you wouldn’t die on me.” Jaskier said happily. 

I scowled at him in response, though it only made him laugh even harder. I tried to sit up when a hand carefully pushed me down onto the ground again. It was the woman; her face still expressionless. 

“Rest. It isn’t everyday a man comes out alive after facing a Kikimora.” She said as she pulled a makeshift blanket closer to my face. 

“I am not a man.” I told her. 

She hummed and said, “Indeed you aren’t human, but you are certainly a man.” 

“Who are you?” 

“I am y/n. I was just passing by when I caught a whiff of the smell of blood. It led me to you drowning in a pool of your own and your friend here cowering in tears and snot.” 

She gestured to Jaskier with a tilt of her head. The bard sat hunched over a piece of parchment by the fire, his lute disregarded on the ground beside him. Scritch-scratch went his quill as it danced over it with ink. Most likely another one of his famously false ballads. 

“How bad are they?” I asked as I tried to shift into a more comfortable position only to give up after jolt of pain passed through me. 

“Your wounds or his songs?” She said with a raised brow. “If you speak of your wounds, they’re horrible. Were you human, you’d be dead by now. But if it’s the songs...they’re packed with lies and falsehoods. But the tune makes up for it.” 

(y/n) then pressed her cold fingers to my forehead and suddenly, a wave of sleepiness came over me. “If you’re well enough to speak, then you’ll be well enough to walk in the morning.” I heard her say through my bleariness. “Sleep now Witcher.” 

Those were the last words I heard before I fell into the darkness of deep slumber. That night, no nightmares haunted me. I slept like a baby for the first time in a long while. When I came to the following day, unlike every other day where I awoke more tired than the night before, I was refreshed. The pain that tortured me the before was long gone and I could move freely again. 

Jaskier slept beside me. His mouth wide open and snoring loudly. He looked like a pig ready to roast and I was tempted to stick apple in it. But then the smell of food over fire caught my attention. (y/n) was already wide awake and was stirring a small pot of something that smelled delicious on the camp fire. 

“Good morning Witcher. Mind not your friend as he was up all night composing a new ballad.” She said without sparring a glance my way. 

She poured a bit of what was in the pot in a small wooden bowl and offered it to me. She looked at me expectantly and I took it with a grateful nod. It was a simple soup dish of mushrooms, beans, and corn. Yet it tasted better than any expensive meal i have ever had in any tavern. Jaskier had also began to stir. Most likely due to the smell of food. 

“What’s for breakfast?” He asked with a yawn. 

“Just some soup to fill our stomachs before journeying again.” (y/n) replied as she poured more into another bowl and offered it to Jaskier. 

The bard hungrily devoured his messily. Some even spilled on to his trousers. It was quite the sight and I had to avert my eyes as to not lose my appetite. 

“You have fully healed and I have already removed the bandages. My work here is done. This is where we part ways.” (y/n) said as she stood up from her spot, securing her pack behind her. 

“Wait! Where are you going?” Jaskier asked with his mouth full. 

“Mind your manners Jaskier. I heading for Temeria. There is a certain herb that I need that only grows there. And it’s a weeks walk.” She replied. 

She was about to walk away when Jaskier called for her again. “Wait! We’re headed that way as well! Why don’t we just go there together!” 

(y/n) hummed and raised a brow in reply. 

“The more the merrier! And besides, I don’t think Geralt here would mind some extra company.” 

“Do not talk as if you kno-“ 

I couldn’t finish my sentence as Jaskier spoke again, cutting me off. “See? He doesn’t mind at all. What do you say?” 

I can’t wait to gut him...

(y/n) was silent for a moment. Likely weighing the pros and cons in her head. But then, after a while, she sighed and nodded in agreement. 

“Great! Now, a second serving of soup please!” Jaskier as he tossed his bowl toward (y/n). Easily, she caught it. She breathed an annoyed sigh but poured Jaskier a bowl anyway. 

Another one...great...Just wonderful... At least this one’s more useful than the other one.


	2. The sorceress in the woods...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally arriving in Temeria only to be kicked out. What a turn of events! Yet who is the person who awaits them in the border?

(y/n) P.O.V

The week’s travel was...peaceful, to say the least. Well it was as peaceful as peaceful can get when you’re with a loud mouth bard and silent Witcher with a colorful vocabulary. To be honest, the only peaceful event during that trip would be Roach. Such a sweet and beautiful thing she is. We got rather close. She even lets me ride her; which reminds me of quite a sad story for Jaskier. Poor man got kicked in the balls for spooking the horse. I don’t think that part will be in any ballads any time soon.

A snow storm began to pick up four days into the journey and we were forced to stay at an inn for shelter. It wasn’t a great inn, much less a good one. It was a shabby place that reeked of the stench of man. But with our predicament, we couldn’t afford to be picky.

We were cooped in there for three days until the owner kicked us out. Well, more like he banged like a madman on Geralt’s door and kicked HIM out, but Jaskier was being pesky and I didn’t want to stay I there any longer than necessary. So in a way, we all got kicked out. Apparently the Witcher hadn’t enough coin for the stay as he spent it all on a whore.

Typical of men.

“Don’t judge me.” He said to Roach with a sigh. The horse nickered.

He must have noticed my staring at his direction as he gave me a pointed look that said, “Don’t you judge me as well.” I only hummed.

I actually could have paid for the rooms myself to save them the trouble. But the situation was all too amusing.

“I’ll be back with payment in a few days. Anything happens to my horse...” Geralt said only to be cut off by the owner.

“You don’t scare me” The man said with a chuckle. Taking light the Witcher words.

Said Witcher glared down at the man as he stalked towards him. “Point me to Temeria.”

Most likely in fear, ironic considering what hehad just said, the man pointed towards Temeria.

Typical of man.

“What business have you in Temeria other than owing an inn owner coin?” I asked along the way.

“I’ve heard that the city seems to have a Vukodlak problem as of late. Wouldn’t hurt to look around.” He replied, his heavy footsteps marching on the snow. 

It didn’t take us long to arrive at Temeria, but the sun has long since disappeared from the horizon. Without the sun, city had a eerie and sad feel to it. There was no joy, no love, just...death. 

Jaskier was more than happy to ditch us for a tavern. “For information purposes.” He said, though I’m pretty sure he was just out for ale. 

It was to dark to search for the herbs I needed. Even with lantern for light, I knew I would lose my way. So with nothing to do and not wanting to be stuck with Jaskier, I decided to tag along with the Witcher. See how he deals with his business. He didn’t seem to mind me anyway.

After walking a around a bit within the city, we came across a group of workers who were rallying against their king. Quite loudly mind you; especially since they were shouting and cheering.If they were looking for the element of surprise, which is a necessity for every assassination attempt, they had just completely lost it.

Geralt silently motioned me to the side as we watched the workers discuss their plans to overthrow the king. Note, they were still shouting out loud. 

“My son...” said one of them. “Rest his soul...told me...in Nilfgaard, the king diddled whores while his subjects starved. Then some one came. The Usurper. And he rallied the people, and they took back what was theirs!” 

“Yeah!” Everyone else cheered. 

“I say we follow their lead!” Said the man again. And again, everyone around him cheered in unison, raising their tools in the air. 

“You can’t kill the Vukodlak...” the Witcher suddenly spoke. He paused for effect as the men turned to face him. 

“So you decide to kill your king? Great plan.” 

“Another fucking Witcher.” Said the same man. “Your kind already swindled us once.”

He then turned his attention to me and said, “A sorceress. It’s bitches like you that have cursed us.” His tone laced with venom.

Looks like these people didn’t have a very good experience. 

With raised brows, I gave Geralt a pointed look and he gave me one as well. We only shrugged at each other in reply as he explained himself, “I take payment after the job is done and for a third of the price. An apology...from my guild, to yours.” 

The man looked at me, and seeing that I was not about to utter a word, looked to his friends and they all seemed to come to a silent agreement. 

“And if you can’t kill it?” He asked

“Then I die.” Geralt replied. 

I would’ve laughed at his straightforwardness if I hadn’t held it in seeing how serious his expression was. I hummed in order to hide my chuckle. 

Then, the loud thundering of boots sounded from the right of us. Soldiers. And about a dozen of them or more; clad in golden armor with their silver spears by their sides. They then divided themselves into two groups. Creating a pathway in between as a man clothed in expensive robes walked towards us. He seemed to be of very high ranking.

“Lower your weapons and return to your homes. Do so quickly and without further theatrics, and you have my word that our king will not hear of this treason.” Said this man. His stature posed and his voice commanding. 

“Foltest commits treason. He hides in his winter castle as we are eaten.” Said the worker. The rest agreed with him and cheered. 

The high ranking man placed a hand on his shoulder and tried to sympathize with his loss. But the worker only pushed it off and spit on his shoes.

The workers, in their panic, raised their tools up in defense against the soldiers, and they did the same. Their leader raised his hand as a command for them to stop; and they did. He turned his attention back to the worker and waited for him to speak.

“You know nothing of my pain.”

The man stormed off, his company following behind him in suite; yet reluctantly. Once they have dispersed, the Witcher gave a sigh and said, “Does Foltest have a plan?”

Though he wasn’t given an answer as the high ranking man orders his soldiers to lead us to the borders of the city.

“Temeria has had their fill or Witcher’s and stray Sorcerers.”

So much for coin.

Accompanied by soldiers, we were led to the outskirts of the city on horse

“What of your herbs?” Geralts asked, his voice not much louder than a whisper.

“There might be some by the boundary. I can just pick those up by morning. What of Jaskier?” I said, whispering as well. 

“Leave him. He’ll be fine.” 

Suddenly, I felt magic around as the soldiers that surrounded us fell from their horses one by one. Alert, the Witcher jumped from his horse and pulled his sword from its sheath. Much more calmly, I got down from my horse and looked to the distance to seethe silhouette of a woman. I sniffed the air...

MAGIC

“Witcher, you can put down your sword. I’m not here to hurt you.” 

“Says the witch hiding in the woods.” He says, not lowering his blade. 

“Sorceress” she corrected. 

“Witch” insisted the Witcher. He gave me an apologetic look afterwards. 

“Triss Merigold. I serve king Foltest.” 


	3. Picky eaters don’t grow pretty...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Triss Merigold confronts our heroes in the forest. How would they respond to such a strange job offer? And who exactly are they after?

Geralt’s P.O.V

“Triss Merigold. I serve King Foltest.” She introduced herself as she pulled down the hood that hid her face. With an olive complexion and long, curled brown hair, she was quite beautiful.

I glared daggers into her as I sheathed my sword back into its scabbard. Yet, she held her ground. Straight and poised.

Stalking towards her, I said, “So he makes a show of kicking me and my travel companion out and sends an errand girl to toss me his coin to slay his monster.” I paused, stopping before the sorceress and looking down as she was a ways smaller in stature. “Not a very original plan for a king.” I smirked with sarcasm.

She looks up to me, just as unfazed and confident as before.

_What is it with sorceresses and their overwhelming confidence?_

“It’s my plan and my coin.” She says seriously. “I don’t want you to kill the monster, I want you to save it.”

In all my years of hacking away at each and, almost, every monster that has crossed paths with me; every person who has paid me their coin often asked for me to kill the source of their problems. Not save it. So consider me confused, yet, pleasantly surprised. I thought carefully about the things I could lose or gain over this bargain. Get rid of a monster without getting myself dirty and getting paid to do it. Honestly, it wasn’t all that bad.

“Fine…” I grunted.

I turned to face (y/n) only to hear the sounds of crunching snow behind me. It was (y/n), who had been incredibly silent during the entire transaction, marching away towards the border of the city. I called out to her and said, “Where are you going?”

“Whatever monsters you are hired to save, or slaughter has nothing to do with me, Witcher. I have other plans.” She replied without stopping or turning my way.

A flash of recognition came to Triss’ face, and she shouted, “Wait! Please! I was hoping you could do something for me as well! I will pay you!”

“I have no interest in coin or work miss Merigold. They are of no value and meaning to me.” (y/n) shouted back as she was already a few paces away.

“Even if it was to tend to the ill and injured?”

That must have been able to catch her attention as the (h/c)ed woman finally stopped. Slowly, she twisted around to face us and said, sneering, “And how, do pray tell, is that supposed to convince me? Why on Earth would I waste precious time and costly ointments on the likes of men?”

“I know who you are. The mysterious wandering sorceress from the north. Curing the incurable; healing the unhealable. I have heard many of your miracles. People say that you are a goddess from above sent to help them. But I know why you do it. I know what you are.”

(y/n) was quiet...very quiet. In fact, too quiet. Like before, there was no emotion on her face. No expression; like stone. But, her icy blue iris seemed to give an eerie glow beneath the shadow of her hood. Slowly, every step careful, she trudged back to us; the snow crunching underneath her feet, reaching up to her knees.

“Fine...” she huffed. “But a word will never be uttered about this again. Understood?” She added, looking at Triss, then me.

The sorceress nodded with a satisfied grin as if everything she planned had finally fallen into place. I only hummed in reply. Then, I felt my tongue become slack and numb; like I hadn’t a tongue. Triss must have felt the same sensation as she had a panicked look on her face.

_Magic_

I turned to glare at (y/n), but unbeknownst to us, she had already walked past and towards the city. Triss led us to a room underneath the castle. The inside smelled of mold and was full of vials of differently colored liquids and other strange mechanisms. (y/n) was very reluctant to enter this place, “It reeks of death. More so than the city itself.” She said, stopping me by the doorway. 

I replied, pushing way her arm,” Well that could only mean one thing now doesn’t it. Either people have died in the place, or it has dead people.”

Triss explained to us the situation. How the creature came into existence to haunt this once flourishing city. And that she was sent here by the brotherhood a couple of months ago to cure the Vukodlak.

“Vukodlak are freak mutations. They can’t be cured.” I said as my eyes drifted to (y/n). She was all over the room. Touching vials and mechanisms. She seemed disappointed. You really couldn’t tell with the dim lighting of the place and with the way her hood shadowed her face. I only guessed as she kept huffing in a mocking manner. “Good thing it’s not a Vukodlak.” I heard Triss said and my head snapped back to her.

Leading us down deeper through a long walkway, Triss continued, “2000 orens if you can tell me exactly what killed this people.” 

Like the room before, this one was full of strange things. But unlike the room before, the strange things here weren’t vials and mechanisms, but dead bodies buried in Said with their faces sticking out. It wasn’t a sight for the light hearted. 

I could hear (y/n) muttering to herself softly beside me, “Wonderful...dead people. Why did I even follow them here. This place reeks.”

I turned to Triss and she gave me an expectant look. I past the buried bodies, examining each of them. Until I noticed one of them bore the crest of a Witcher around his neck. 

“You didn’t want the people to know that it bested a Witcher. And you let them believe that he fled with their coin.” I said said annoyed. But Triss only looked away. 

(y/n), surprisingly, put a gentle hand on my arm and looked at me. She was silent, and there was still no emotion on her face. Yet, it seemed like she was giving me a silent apology. I nodded and she slid her hand off. Huffing heavily, I began to dig away the sand that covered my fellow Witcher’s body. 

“The princess is a picky eater. And picky eaters don’t grow pretty.” (y/n) suddenly said with brows raised.

I gave her a strange look. I felt inside the dead body for anything lost. Pulling my hand out, I said, “His hearts missing along with his liver. Only one creature I know is that picky an eater.” 

“A Striga.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sorry if this one ( or also the other ones) felt a bit rushed U-U. I’m down with a cold and only wrote this out of boredom. But hope y’all like it *w*!


End file.
